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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104345">Life Goes On</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny'>Wealthywetsunny</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Far Cry 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, F/M, Kidnapping, Torture, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 14:20:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23104345</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rook only wants a normal life. It’s what she wanted for a real long time now, long enough for her to start to question her loyalty to the resistance. </p><p>This is what happens when she goes rogue.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>If you squint its there - Relationship, Slight John/Rook</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This writing piece is a commission that I’ve been working on for about two weeks. I’m real proud of this one, and if anyone else wants a commission done feel free to message me on my tumblr: Its-the-bliss-talking</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rook leans back as much as her injuries allow. Her stitches pull painfully taut at the sudden movement. The bullet hole hidden beneath her shirt isn’t close to being healed, but it’s not her newest injury by far. No, the deep gash on her forearm earns that title. The gunshot wound—all stitched up and wrapped with semi-clean bandages—is around four days old. She’d devote more attention to it if she wasn’t trying to stem the blood flowing out freely from her arm. </p><p> </p><p>She wouldn’t be surprised if it’ll need stitches too. For now she wraps a strip of gauze around her arm and hisses through her teeth at the pain.</p><p> </p><p>Pain isn’t new to her, but she doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to it. The human brain can’t remember pain, it can’t recall the time she twisted her ankle jumping down a ledge, or the way some Peggie bashed her in the face with his gun. So she keeps running into danger thinking that whatever happens can’t be as bad as what happened before. </p><p> </p><p>A hand falls to her stomach, absentmindedly rubbing her wound. It’s not often she gets shot, but it’s time like these when she wonders if it’s worth it. When she’s staring down the carnage of a freshly taken outpost, waiting for backup to arrive, that she questions what she’s doing. </p><p> </p><p>She isn’t as invested as the citizens of Hope County are, she doesn’t have the history they do with this town. This isn’t her home. She doesn’t have the drive they do to protect this land. She doesn’t have their fervor, and that’s the problem. The reason why all these doubts festor is because she can easily imagine herself being on the other side.</p><p> </p><p>Standing as one of their Chosen or listening in on Joseph’s sermons. That option wasn’t exactly given to her though. Calling the resistance home was a given. They didn’t shoot her when she walked in with all her naive glory that first day, solely because of the uniform she was wearing and the title she bore. She’s an officer of the law. It’s only natural that she isn’t one with the Project. </p><p> </p><p>They’ve probably all been taught that the police are out to get them. </p><p> </p><p>She can’t help but think that it’d be easier not to be the figurehead of the resistance. Her head thumps back against the tree she’s resting on. It makes her headache worse but she can’t bring herself to care. </p><p> </p><p>Rook runs an appraising eye over the outpost she took over. Trying to ignore the mangled bodies she left in her wake. It’s some sort of factory as far as she can tell, with logs stacked around in heaps. She’s not too sure what good this’ll do the resistance. Really what are they taking away from Joseph by stealing a lumber mill? But if it gets Pastor Jerome and Dutch and everyone else off her back, then fine. </p><p> </p><p>Curiosity killed the cat though, so when cars start pulling in, she asks the first person she sees what it is they’re using this place for. </p><p> </p><p>“Mary May didn’t say much to be honest. Just told us to haul ass and get down here. I can call her if you’d like…” he waves his radio as an offer, one she declines. She’s got Mary May’s radio signal, better yet, she knows where the woman spends most of her time. </p><p> </p><p>Rook thanks him with a nod of her head and bites back the rush of anger that comes when she limps out past the gates and not a single person asks if she’s okay. No one stops their excited chattering to help her hobble in her car, no one suggests that maybe she takes a break or at least see someone about her wounds because she’s dripping blood everywhere. </p><p> </p><p>Her anger makes her drive a little too fast. She whirls around bends and sends up dust as she picks up speed down the straights of the roads. She feels lightheaded and so, so sick. Nausea rises in her throat more than once. And by the time she reaches Fall’s End she’s ready to puke. </p><p> </p><p>She practically throws herself out of the car. Her knees go all wobbly and weak before she lets herself collapse. Her throat clenches and her gut heaves, though nothing comes up. Not even when she forces a finger down her throat and prays for a release. </p><p> </p><p>“Deputy?”</p><p> </p><p>Rook turns her head slowly, squinting past the sun to catch sight of Jerome. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yes, hi. Hello. I got that outpost back.”</p><p> </p><p>“I heard. Congratulations.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a beat of silence before he approaches her. Kneeling in the dirt and tipping his head down to meet her eyes. “You ought to take better care of yourself, deputy. We need you.”</p><p> </p><p>Rook grinds her teeth. </p><p> </p><p>He needs her. Okay, yeah, sure. She’d be more prone to believe that if she wasn’t this county’s only saving grace. If she wasn’t pulling the brunt of the load then she might think they were friends. But then he’s pulling her to her feet with an arm slung over his shoulder and she doesn’t have the heart to berate him. </p><p> </p><p>He guides them to the Spread Eagle, toeing open the door and laughing at her look of confusion of his choice. “You look like you need a drink.” </p><p> </p><p>He’s not wrong there. Booze will help with the pain at least, and Mary May is more than happy to provide her with some, sliding a bottle of beer her way with a half hearted smile. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s on the house, deputy.”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t need to ask why. Though after her first couple of sips she leans forward and prods about what had brought her here in the first place. </p><p> </p><p>“So what’s going on with the lumber mill?”</p><p> </p><p>“Like what’re we using it for?”</p><p> </p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p> </p><p>Mary May shifts, head dropping before she looks back up and meets Rook’s eyes. There’s such rage there that it makes Rook flinch. </p><p> </p><p>“We’re planning on using it like a holding cell. Somewhere to keep the Peggies we capture.”</p><p> </p><p>“We—we capture Peggies? Since when?”</p><p> </p><p>Mary May laughs. She fucking laughs. Like she’s not talking about human lives. It leaves Rook wondering what ever happened to not stooping to their level. She knows that life’s not as easy as having a good guy and a bad guy, that things are far more complicated than that. But the one thing Rook has when she goes to sleep at night is knowing that she has to shoot back. It’s kill or be killed. They don’t give her a choice. The one thing she holds close to her heart is the fact that the resistance is a safe haven for those trying to escape the torture and kidnapping going on in Eden’s Gate. </p><p> </p><p>“You can’t do that, Mary May.”</p><p> </p><p>She snorts. “Why not? Think about it Rook. Imagine the advantage we could have over them if we can get information from a couple of Peggies. We might actually win this thing.” </p><p> </p><p>Rook has to remind herself that this is her friend, that she can’t reach over and throttle this woman. A woman who lost her father and brother to the cult, who’s about to lose her bar too. </p><p> </p><p>She’s a friend. </p><p> </p><p>So Rook takes a couple deep breaths and slides carefully out of her seat. The plan in her head already halfway formed when she’s out the door. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She floats between the Henbane and Holland Valley for the next couple of weeks if only to keep an eye on the lumber mill. She tracks its progress and makes calculated remarks to the occasional random citizen she meets along her walks, inquiring subtly about what they’re doing to Peggies in that place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No one seems to object; and maybe Rook wouldn’t either, that is until she gets to see the thing for herself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sprawling grounds are full of vehicles when she arrives. More than one is marked on the side with the black Peggie symbol she’s come to recognize. There’s blood in some of the seats, smashed windows and bullet holes embedded in the sides of those cars. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t have to wonder where those Peggies went. She hears the screams when she opens the door to the main building. The place smells like death, she should know, she’s been covered in it ever since she got here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The first person she runs into is smiling, the picture of casual grace. It makes the pistol tucked into her jeans feel heavier. Rook doesn’t recognize this person, which makes what she’s about to do easier. The woman smiles at her brightly just as they pass each other. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey deputy!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t answer besides a muted grunt, and of course, with a forearm wrapping around this stranger's neck. It’s second nature to bring her body to the floor, to tighten her hold and choke until she’s limp. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Rook’s moving down the hall, confident that if she works fast enough then she shouldn’t have to worry about anyone finding the trail of bodies she leaves. Because she does add more. Close to twenty by the time she stands on the other side of a door that has screams behind it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She slips the gun out of her waist band and holds it tight in her hand. She fingers the trigger and considers what she’s about to do one more time. There’s no going back after this. Peggies and resistance members alike will question her from here on out. Maybe no one will want her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She decides it doesn’t matter. So she pushes open the door and opens fire. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she’s done, the room now quiet, it’s a bloody mess. Reminiscent of only a couple days ago when she liberated this very place. The only difference is the people she killed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let's get you all out of here, huh?” She knows they can’t speak, they’re too beaten for that. Some barely holding onto consciousness. They cling to it though, probably out of fear for what she’s going to do. She can’t blame them, she knows what her name stands for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s three of them, all tied to chairs and looking on the verge of death. Rook tries not to put the pieces together, she doesn’t want to know what’s going on here. But it’s too obvious. There are pliers and scalpels, knives and a rusty car iron.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She isn’t sure what it’s going to take to flee, or how hard it’ll be to find somewhere no one can bother her, but she doesn’t have a choice. Not anymore. She’s not standing with the resistance after this, not when she hardly owed them anything at all in the first place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She murmurs soft words of encouragement as she guides each of the Peggies out. The gun held loosely in her hand. She goes out the back door, the car she planted yesterday right where she left it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not hard to figure out where to go, where she needs to take these people. They’re Joseph’s. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’d much rather give him a heads up that she’s coming, to maybe give some orders to not shoot at the beat up SUV that comes rolling up to his gates. But beggars can’t be choosers. And she’s running on a time limit; there’s more to her plan than what she just did. Something that isn’t for the good of others for once. This’ll be entirely selfish. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Joseph! Open up!” She sticks her head out the window, not fully trusting what’ll happen if she steps out. Her appearance does cause a commotion though, that much is unavoidable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighs and leans back against her seat. Muttering under her breath as Peggies get in position for an attack. Aiming guns her way and calling out orders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just want to talk to the Father. I’ve got a delivery, something he’ll want to see.” She hopes her vagueory will pay off if her sudden appearance doesn’t.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She isn’t left waiting long. There’s a buzz that moves through everyone, an excited murmur that barely reaches her ears. She hears about Joseph’s arrival long before he stands at the gates, already motioning for his people to open them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That alone makes her pause when he beckons her forward. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I don’t think my coming in there is necessary.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Joseph tilts his head at her, “would you rather I come to you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’d be preferable.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he does just that. She briefly wonders if he realizes just how prideful he’s being right now. Thinking that she won’t be able to harm him. But she glances up and realizes the amount of people he’s got on his side and she briefly feels sick. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Deputy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hands tighten around the wheel at how close he is. Close enough for her to smell him, for him to reach inside and unlock the door if he wanted. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a faint smile on his face when he looks at her, and she holds her breath when he glances behind her and sucks in a breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are those my people?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who else’s would they be? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I trust that this isn’t some kind of threat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” she laughs at how strange that sounds to her, more so that she never even thought that as an option. “No, I wanted to do the opposite actually. I thought I should warn you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“About what?” Joseph brings up his hands and holds the edge of the window, letting the metal exterior of the car bite into the flesh of his hand. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The resistance is taking your people. Doing whatever they did to these folks back here. You and your siblings like to believe I hold so much power over the resistance, but I don’t. I can’t stop them from doing this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But my family can,” he whispers, and she sees the gears in his head turning slowly. Things clicking into place as he puts it all together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He clears his throat and nods his head to one of his men. Motioning to take his people out of her car. “And in return, what do you get out of this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you be able to believe that I don’t want to hurt anyone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always had faith in you.” There’s a sparkle in his eyes when he focuses back on her. “You’re welcome here, deputy, if you ever need refuge.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d like a bit more privacy, some...normalcy, y’know? I’m looking for a home, okay? And it’s none of your concern where I’m going.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nods, apparently satisfied when he steps back, sensing that this conversation is coming to an end. “Of course. Though my offer will always stand, for whenever you need help, deputy, my doors are open to you.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It takes only hours for her to find someplace secluded enough that she feels comfortable approaching. There’s a grouping of scattered buildings, all in various states of disarray. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Apparently though it won’t stay that way for long, because when she gets closer she realizes her mistake. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This place is littered with Peggies.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her hand instinctively tightens around her pistol, if she needs to, she could steal this land. Take it by force and claim it as her own, but she knows better. Word would get out and resistance members would come flooding in and that would be another reason the Seeds want her dead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook sighs wearily and makes her presence known. She clears her throat loudly, tucking her pistol back inside her jeans and holds her hands up to show she means no harm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey there,” she gives a hesitant wave to the person nearest to her and regrets it immediately when a bullet just nearly misses her thigh. Her whole body flinches and she recoils. Fear written plainly on her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She does a quick scan to see where it comes from and almost smiles. It’s a BB gun, and that seems like the only weapon these people have. Which makes sense now when she catches sight of quite a few people making a break for it. Getting the hell out of dodge before she did something crazy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which isn’t her intention, though her telling them as much doesn’t get any sort of reaction. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nods to herself, giving herself a mental pep talk. Letting her know that she can do this. There’s no need to panic. So she walks forward with her chin held high and a slight smile on her lips. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The house she claims as her own has long since been abandoned. Tables are overturned and pictures have been smashed. Glass littering the floor. It doesn’t bother her, she’s had to deal with worse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does anyone mind finding me a trash bag maybe?” Rook turns on her heel and addresses the lingering Peggies. Not nearly as many as there had been, but enough to help if they were up to it. Though she’s doubtful on that front when no one answers her. She shrugs and gets to cleaning. Pushing trash into its own little pile to be dealt with later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She yanks open a curtain and pops the window halfway, breathing in deeply and taking in this moment. Trying to imagine this as her home from now on. She can see herself waking up here, taking the short walk to the lake for some fish, rolling out of bed to the singing of birds. It’s exactly the kind of life she had wanted before things had kicked off. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Deputy Rook.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her whole body goes stiff. She knows that voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hardly believed my men when they told me just </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> had spared their lives. I had to come see it for myself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So much for word getting out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She hums quietly in response, hands gripping the windowsill. She’s never met John in person, but she’s heard enough about him to know the suave manner of speech he has. She’s heard his broadcasts all over this county, it’d be impossible not to recognize his voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is it you plan on doing here, deputy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Excuse me if I find that hard to believe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now she turns. Confident to meet him head on. To finally step towards him and close the gap. “I plan on doing nothing. I don’t want to be bothered, yeah?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well that’s difficult when you try to live somewhere that’s already been taken. Where are my people supposed to go?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They don’t have to go anywhere. So long as they don’t try to kill me, I don’t mind having them here.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyebrows furrow, and suddenly bright blue eyes are tracking her every facial movement. His lips part once. Then twice. Gaping like a fish. He chuckles softly and nods. “alright, deputy. I’m not sure what you’re playing at, but I’ll learn that soon enough, won’t I?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook’s lips curl into a sneer when he turns his back and moves through his ranks. Nodding his thanks to them and reaching out to pat at their shoulders. They swoon at the attention, and she has to remind herself who these people are. That if John really wanted to, he could’ve sicced his men on her with a simple word. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sighs, her muscles loosening as fatigue finally sets in. Her head dips and her eyes close, already creating a mental checklist. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Um, deputy? John, he...he told me to give you this…” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook’s head pops up, eyes scanning the young Peggie woman who approached her. She’s barely older than Rook, and she’s wearing a hesitant smile, like she knows more than everyone else. As if she understands that maybe Rook doesn’t want anyone to get hurt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And in her outstretched hand...is that trash bag she asked for. It’s so outrageous that she laughs. It’s going to be a strange couple of days, that’s for sure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Those days go faster with Marlene. The same young woman who handed over that trash bag. She sticks close to Rook. Floats around the cabin she claimed and re-organizes the Peggies into the homes scattered around the area. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s too smart, too kind, to be associated with the Seeds, but Rook keeps that opinion to herself. Tucks it deep down inside her. Being with the resistance for so long made her forget how much she really doesn’t mind the people of the Project. She doesn’t mind their religion or fervent worship, in fact she’s jealous of it. She’s never had something like what they have. She wishes she could have as much faith as they do. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook says as much to Marlene. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which makes her perk up almost immediately. “Really?! I—some of us figured that you’ve started to change, but we weren’t sure. I just...we wanted to ask you something for a couple of days now—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve only been here for a couple days.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right. Right, we know, and you can refuse, no pressure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook nods and leans back in her chair, watching Marlene fidget across the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We all want to help as much as we can for the Collapse.” She pauses, gnawing on her bottom lip anxiously, waiting for scrutiny that she’s had to face for years now; when she doesn’t get any, she keeps going. “There’s a bunker around here, someplace safe we can run to when the Collapse comes. It’s closer than any of our herald’s bunkers, just in case we wouldn’t be able to make it there in time. You’d have a place there, of course.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook nods and taps her fingers against the table thoughtfully. It’d give her something to do, and if she‘s lucky, the Peggies might start to see her for who she is.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure, lead the way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really, Marlene. C’mon, while it’s still daylight out. Show me.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marlene’s bubbling with excitement the entire walk there, which isn’t far at all. Practically in Rook’s backyard. She understands the push for this bunker, it’s some sort of security blanket. She can respect that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which is why she doesn’t kick up a fuss when it takes literally five hours to finish getting the bunker together. Water’s running, electricity is a go—as well as a backup generator—food is stocked and medical supplies are in place. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s kind of rewarding, even she has to admit that when it’s all said and done. Her heart goes all fluttery when Marlene loops an arm through hers and pulls her close. Laughing with pure glee about seemingly nothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s it you’re so happy about?” Rook asks softly, casting a glance around the hoard of people trailing along behind them to get back home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just...life. There’s nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be happy about.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook, maybe for the first time in her life, agrees with that statement.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rook was never good with her hands. Even when she was young. And especially not now. She’s not too sure how much help she is, but Marlene appreciates her being here, and seeing her face light up is worth the couple of times Rook bangs her thumb with the hammer that was pushed in her hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it should be done soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Marlene, you’re optimistic as all hell and I love that about you...but I think you’re wrong.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marlene shrugs and leans back on her heels. Her head tips back to survey their handiwork. The building in front of them doesn’t resemble the church they’re setting out to build quite yet, it’s hardly a frame. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well it has to get done. So it will.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can’t you go to Joseph’s church? On his compound?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marlene laughs, snatching the hammer from Rook’s loose grasp to pound away at a nail. “It’s so far, and there’s a lot of people that attend his services. And the air conditioning breaks sometimes, so…” she trails off, a sheepish smile on her face. “Besides, maybe if we get a church closer to home then you’ll actually come to hear one of our heralds speak.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook </span>
  <em>
    <span>groans. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s an old argument. If you could call it that, Rook always shuts it down before it can get that far. “You’re not going to stop talking about this, are you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marlene shrugs and gives a little hum of non commitment. There’s an impish smirk on her lips though, and that’s all the answer Rook needs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not the only one who wants you there, you know. The Father and his siblings have made several requests for your presence. As well as some of his flock. They don’t believe that you’re living here beside us. That you’re as peaceful as we claim.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook knows what Marlene’s doing even if </span>
  <em>
    <span>she</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t. She thinks that Rook cares so greatly about her image, about what others think, that she’ll have to amend their thoughts on her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...and she’s not wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fucking hell, fine. One service, okay. One!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marlene laughs, all giddy excitement as she bounces on her knees. She clutches the hammer to her chest with suppressed glee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tomorrow. Joseph’s holding a service tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Any chance you know what it’s about?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course not,” she huffs with a good hearted roll of her eyes. “The Father himself hardly knows what it’s about. He just...goes with the flow. Improvises, if you will. He’s got a rough idea, though he gets so lost in the moment as he speaks he just says the first thing that comes to mind. Oh, it’s truly magical, deputy.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guess I’ll be the judge of that soon, won’t I?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her smile is so wide and bright it makes Rook smile too. “Guess so.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The church is stifling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though it’s bound to be so when she’s currently in the same room as the Seeds. And sitting at the very front. And everyone’s eyes are on her, murmurs are floating around already. No one’s trying to hide the fact that they're talking about her, and that makes her squirm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Deputy Rook, it’s a pleasure to see you here.” John’s smile is wide, absolutely beaming as he stands in front of her. “I think you might learn quite a lot by listening.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nods her head gently, careful to keep Joseph’s warning in mind. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t push John’s buttons. Smile, nod and act like the exact opposite of what everyone thinks when her name comes to mind.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that so?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She winces at the snide tone her voice takes on. She’s trying, she really is, but John is hardly ever civil himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mhm,” he sits with a flourish beside her, either unaware or uncaring of her discomfort. His body is angled towards her, knees bumping against her own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tries to shift away, but he follows her, scooting closer. “Shouldn’t you be...y’know,” she jerks her head towards the front of the room, in the direction of the small set of steps leading to the stage. “Up there?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugs, a small smile on his face. “No, not for today. I think I’ll sit right here with you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She feels the beginning of wrath bubble up in her chest, threatening to drown her if she doesn’t fight against it. She breathes in deep and going by John’s little smirk, he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that a problem, deputy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Course not, can’t exactly tell you where to sit though, can I? It’s your church.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He purses his lips in thought, about to add another piece of his endless wisdom before Jacob swoops in and saves her. Which is weird, because never in a million years would she think that she’d ever refer to Jacob as her savior. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’s trapped her in a cage and made her fear him the same way Faith brought her along on a drugged induced journey full of lies that makes Rook shake with anxiety. The same way John had hunted her down for her baptism until she was hyperventilating and she couldn’t go to sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But right now Jacob’s a godsend. Coming into Rook’s view and making John turn to see what caught her attention. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dunno why Joe insisted we be here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes he acts like we don’t have our own shit to do.” Jacob’s casual and carefree as she’s ever seen him. Like the reason isn’t obviously clear, even she can see why he’d bring them all here. She’s the focal point of this sermon, she just knows it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So her whole body is clenched tight with nerves when it begins. From the moment Joseph steps through those doors and a hush descends upon his flock. She’s shaking and she’s sure it’s obvious. John’s on her left and Jacob’s on her right and Faith’s standing behind Joseph with a sweet little smile sent her way. And it’s all too much. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Joseph must know that, because he casts a thankful eye over his people and he frowns when he comes to her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a brief pause before he walks towards her, kneeling down to catch her attention. “Are you going to be okay, my child?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She avoids his eyes and sighs. “Yes.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If it’s too much, you can leave. I’m thankful enough that you’re here in the first place.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She nods fast. Relieved when he finally steps back into place because everyone’s eyes were on her. Wondering why she’s allowed to be here, why is she not already predestined for damnation? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s starting to wonder the same thing, for now though she’ll bite her tongue and sit and play a good girl. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, my children.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There’s a soft murmur in the crowd of the many people responding back with varying degrees of enthusiasm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to beat around the bush here, for I know that all of you are more than aware of the guest joining us today. Deputy Rook, the same woman who tried to bring an end to this Project, is here to listen. She’s got as much of a right to be forgiven as anyone of you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook flushes red and glares at him. There’s a twinkle in his eye when he continues. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I spent a lot of time wondering what I should address today. There were many sleepless nights where I couldn’t decide on any one topic. Until Rook showed me—proved to me—that there’s kindness still in her heart. It’s a virtue we would all benefit from learning.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She tunes out as best as she can. Instead she focuses on the closeness of the Seeds beside her. The intimidating breadth of Jacob’s physique and the comments John whispers under his breath until it's his turn to rise and speak to his people. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He speaks of what he always does. At what he’s best at. Sin and the depravity of man, of how evil we all innalty are. It makes her squirm; even more so when Jacob stands, though he doesn’t speak. He just takes up a comfortable position on the back wall, surveying the room until it’s all over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook tries to escape as fast as she can. She darts past the initial rush of people who crowd towards the Father, desperate for his attention. She’s almost gone too, halfway across Joseph’s terrifying compound when a hand claps down on her shoulder. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She screams, it’s loud and high pitched and it makes Jacob laugh when she spins around ready to fight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Calm down, honey.” He raises his hands with a cocked eyebrow. “Joseph said to make sure you got out safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She snorts, “safe. Right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am. C’mon, I don’t have all day.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He brushes past her easily, and that makes her want to stay right where she is. To act like a defiant, nasty thing, but that wouldn’t serve anyone and she really wants to go home. So she trails a couple steps behind him, watching the muscles move beneath his shirt, behind the denim of his jeans where his thighs tensed and released. Her eyes drew immediately to the knife strapped there, and really it’d be too easy to reach out and grab the hilt of that knife. To slam it into his neck and watch him go down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop it,” he says over his shoulder, slowing down so she can catch up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Stop what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thinking so hard, and I bet I can guess what you’re thinking about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t say anything, mostly because she’s sure he </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> guess. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You still scared of me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who ever said I was scared of you in the first place?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolls his eyes, annoyed the same way he is when she doesn’t perform how he wants, when he thinks she’s wasted her potential. “You don’t gotta say it. But, for the record, I am sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Joseph tell you to say that?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh-huh.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She laughs, at least he’s honest, though he gives her an odd look at the outburst. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think you feel sorry,” she says once they reach the gates. She pauses to watch it roll slowly open. “You wouldn’t ever apologize for weeding out the weak, but you love your brother, and your brother is sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that enough?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t ask what he means by that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Enough. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She just sighs real softly and looks up towards the sun before she pulls her keys from her pocket. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Jacob. It’s enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rook’s sleeping when the first attack comes. It’s unexpected and so below the belt considering just </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span> is beyond her door. She recognizes too many faces when she pulls back the curtain and peers out her window. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s her own friends, the same people she fought so goddamn hard for. She almost died for them. These people who she drank beers with and shared sleepless nights with. Nick, Adelaide, Tracy, Eli, the whole lot. Even some nameless civilians who she helped along the way with flattened tires or out of rope binds.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s five seconds away from losing her shit.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She’s able to handle her own just fine, thank you very much, but they aren't coming towards her home—which they must know is hers because they all pointedly avoid even looking in the direction of the shadowy exterior of her cabin—they’re heading the opposite way. Past hulking rocks and teeming trees, right where the rest of the building lay in this ramshackle town she wanted to be home. Where the Peggies are. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook’s still in her pajamas, a luxury now. Something she wouldn’t dare to even consider when she was her own one woman army. Forced to fight day and night. She had to be ready at a moment's notice. She had to be at least somewhat prepared to get up and run. Now though, living the way she is, she thought things had calmed down, that just maybe she could get comfortable enough to change into a baggy t-shirt and some shorts. So she’s evidently freezing when she bursts out of her door and stomps off after the resistance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In seconds she’s shivering, even when she begins to run. Well after the severity of what might happen hits her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Her yell is lost to the wind. “Fucking hell—hey!” Without thought she bends down mid run and she scrambles to find the nearest rock. Without thought, she chucks it. It must find its home somewhere, because suddenly about two dozen people swivel towards her, guns raised.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She flinches. Hands coming up like that could stop a bullet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Easy,” she murmurs softly, soft enough that not even the closest ranks could hear her. She doesn’t bother trying to make her voice be heard. Mostly because she’s not sure anything she’d say would stop them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Rook.” It’s Eli, a sad little frown on his face when he steps forward. “You’re alright.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course I’m alright.” It sounds silly saying that. Unless you’re with the Project—not having your home taken or food stolen—when are you ever okay? “What the hell are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Could ask you the same thing, darling.” Addie pushes people out of her way, coming to stop right in front of Rook. Eyes full of judgement sliding over her sleep riddled form. She knows how she looks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cozy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>With her bed head and rumpled, soft looking clothes, the smell of the coffee she drank earlier still on her breath. She knows that she looks clean from up this close. That she’s spent months complaining that she never has time to bathe. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should go,” Rook tries to look past the small army they brought along and hides her panic when she can’t. “These people don’t want to fight.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>They can’t fight. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“They don’t even have guns or bats—they’re just…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Peggies.” Eli finishes curtly, “they’re Peggies and we thought they got you. When no one heard anything from you we all thought you were in trouble.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She bites her tongue and shakes her head real slow. “Well you’re wrong. You’re so wrong and I’d really appreciate it if you’d leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can’t—“</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can Eli. After all I’ve done for you, after all I’ve endured from Jacob for you—at least give me this. Leave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eli turns his head down, cheeks pinkening. And some small, snide part of her is glad that he’s ashamed. He’s got every right to be when she spent a week in Jacob’s loving care and he didn’t bat an eye as to where she disappeared to. If she hadn’t have backed off when she did she’s not too sure what Jacob would be doing to her now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Addie doesn’t look hurt, though if she is, she hides it well. “That’s it, huh? We forget you ever existed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not saying that. I just need time, yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And the Seeds?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about them?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are you with them, I mean, do they know you’re here getting all cozy with the Peggies?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook has an overwhelming urge to tell the truth. To let them know that she’s got no idea what she’s doing here; she’s way out of her deputy, trying to have some sort of life in the midst of a war. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lying’s easier.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Course they do. And I know John wouldn’t have a problem riding down here if I just called.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That makes a ripple go through the crowd. Which says quite a lot about her poker face, because John scares her the same as everyone else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The message seems to get across just as planned though. They leave without a bullet being fired, without a life being taken, and that’s more rewarding than anything she’s ever been through while here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>*****</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After what she’s done here for the Seeds, she thought they might have had some sort of mutual agreement. They’ve never outright spoken about it, but she figured—after clearing out a bunker and building a damn church and attending their service—that they didn’t want her dead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Old habits die hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d say you’re scaring people but you probably just get off on that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>John laughs. He tips his head back and </span>
  <em>
    <span>roars</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Like anything about this situation is funny. Though he’s got all the power so really she’s not surprised. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think I scare them?” He gestures with a flippant hand towards their town. “That’s rich coming from you. I’ve seen these people grow, I’ve taken their confessions—I’ve baptised them for Christ’s sake! And you have the utter audacity to even suggest such a thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think she gets it John.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Does she though, Jacob?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook clutches her rifle close to her chest and tries to even her breathing. She glances behind her and sees faces peeking out from windows, vying for a chance to catch a glimpse of this standoff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not everyday a whole caravan shows up armed to the teeth with two of their heralds in tow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The hell do you even want with me now? I’m not doing anything to destroy your Project. So what could you possibly want?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t done a number of things for me, my dear.” John croons, stepping closer and smiling when she all but snarls at him. “You want to live among these pure souls and yet you haven’t been baptized like they have. You haven’t confessed like they have. Your soul is bathed in blood.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook would punch him if Jacob wasn’t here. Which was a smart call on John’s part. They both know that Jacob would do anything for his brother, that he’d snap her in two if she even looked at John wrong. He’s imposing enough as it is, standing mostly quiet with arms crossed. The best of his soldiers at the ready for his signal. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s just a show, they wouldn’t kill her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want to eat breakfast, okay? I would like to start painting the church and lay down some carpet. I want to go hiking today and I was thinking of helping Todd replace one of the broken windows in his living room because he and his wife are freezing at night. I have plans.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She steps closer. Their chests bump and she watches as his nostrils flare and his pupils dilate. “My world doesn’t revolve around you, John.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’d like it to.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Rook has to bite back a laugh at how easy he is. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe another day, John. But I’m busy, okay? Just like I’m sure you’ve got a ton of other things to do today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugs, hands twitching restlessly by his side. “I cleared my schedule for this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then go hang out with your brother for the day.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jacob chuckles softly, apparently knowing the kind of reaction she’d get from that. Which is a very pouty John. His whole body slumps and he seems to deflate. She reaches out and pats him on the shoulder good naturedly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye John.” She casts her gaze up and stamps down on her fear when she meets Jacob’s eyes. “Bye Jacob.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jacob gives her a crooked smile, and she’s not sure whether Joseph talked to him or what, but there’s almost something familial about that smile. “See ya, deputy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they’ve gone, leaving rumors in their wake, Rook wanders for a bit. She’s lost her appetite a while ago and she doesn’t feel like being cooped up inside. She’s not meant to be at the church for another couple hours, so she’s got time to kill. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now she walks the paths that she’s come to know in the last couple of weeks. It’s quiet here, but it’s a different kind of quiet than she’s used to. It doesn’t make her gut turn to knots like it once did. She doesn’t feel the need to continuously glance behind her, she just walks. She basks in the silence that comes from the countryside and she </span>
  <em>
    <span>lives</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s not perfect, she’s sure that John will come back later in the week if not tomorrow. The resistance will come knocking on her door soon if the whispers she’s hearing are right—if they really are starting to lose the fight and thinking of giving in. There’s still a lot to be dealt with, but some things get bad before they get better. And for now, that’s okay.</span>
</p>
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